Boules
We duly went to the regional boules
championships for rural wrinklies as planned and this time entered
three teams. The championships were held at Roquebrune sur Anges,
near Fréjus on the coast, and I was really looking forward to the
event. When we went before, a good time was had by all.
Unfortunately, that was not to be repeated.
The evening meal when we arrived was
possibly the worst I have ever had in France and subsequent meals
showed little improvement. One of our party, Dany Sue, called over
the head chef at lunch-time on the second day to ask what was going
on. The « chef » explained that it was out of his hands:
Head Office dictated what was to be served as meals and he just cut
it up or heated it up. The organisation running the site was
Renouveau, who have a large chain of such sites. I'm not sure whther
it was lack of local knowledge or budget considerations that caused
that site to be chosen but the discontent was widespread so it is
unlikely we'll be going near their sites again.
Disappointment at the food was
compounded by my team's performance at boules. The courts were
admittedly difficult to play on, a thin coveringof gravel over
tarmac, but it was the same for everyone and we'd overcome similar
difficulties in the national championships three years previously.
None of us played consistently well and we ended up being placed
20th. On the positive side, one of our teams came 6th and the main
playing day was blisteringly hot.
We didn't stay for the final lunch but
took off and found a good Relais Routier which had a tasty menu for
just 13 euros. Around their car park was a hedge with flowers that I
thought I recognised and sure enough a twitch of my nose confoirmed
it was made up of gardenias. I'd tried a couple of times to grow
these in England without any success (they really need a tropical
environment) but here was a while hedge of them. Their perfume
surpasses anything I know.
Football
My overwhelming and totally irrational
support for Chelsea (if they lose I know the ref has been bribed)
cheered me up on my return when they won the Europa Cup. My almost
lifelong support (an aunt took me to my first game when I was 10) was
again justified. The aunt supported Chelsea too from the time she
took an interest in football until her death in 1953 but never saw
them win a major trophy. I was more fortunate, seeing them win four
major trophies over the following 20 years and four more before our
Russian saviour arrived. Rather less fortinately I also saw them
relegated four times over that period. They have recently won 11
major trophies in 10 years so all is well on that front.
